


mr. rogers in a blood-stained sweater

by orphan_account



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack Treated Seriously, F/F, LARPing, M/M, Or Is It?, POV Outsider, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:27:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21739840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In which Byleth and Jeritza are stuck in an endless cycle of reincarnation, forced to fight to the death every time they meet and Shamir is recording everything to her Cringe Compilation folder.Also Catherine is still there being a narc.
Relationships: Catherine/Shamir Nevrand, Jeritza von Hrym/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 19
Kudos: 156





	mr. rogers in a blood-stained sweater

**Author's Note:**

> for my secret santa! sorry it's a few hours late!!
> 
> title from the song "ultimate showdown of ultimate destiny" by lemon demon
> 
> first line taken from canon dialogue

"My blade has been sharpened… and it craves flesh." 

As Shamir stretches and rolls from her place on one of the school's rooftop benches to throw Jeritza a judging look, she can't help but wonder when was it exactly that comments like this started to register in her brain as a non issue. Byleth, who until now had been laying on his stomach and playing Animal Crossing on his smuggled console, quickly tosses it to Shamir and jumps to his feet. 

It is only her sharp reflexes and familiarity with this routine that allow Shamir to catch the well loved 3DS midair. She watches with fond disgust as Byleth rummages his dragon themed backpack for a blue plastic lightsaber, Jeritza's own red one already in his hands as he twists his pretty boy face into a nasty glare that could actually be intimidating if it came from anyone but a LARPer. 

Byleth grunts as he finds it, carefully letting his bag drop to the floor then nudging it with his foot to the side and nearer Shamir's spot. His hair is as fluffy as ever and if she were someone else Shamir would be cooing at how serious he looks when he squints at Jeritza menacingly. 

As it is she just takes out her phone and starts recording.

Like during most of their battles while still in Garreg Mach Academy grounds, there are no shouted threats or declarations of how they have a second chance in this new life or any other confusing statements Shamir gets a headache just thinking about. She'd banned it all the moment she realized this could attract the attention of the school staff or, she groans just thinking about it, hall monitors. 

If she is to be honest with herself, which Shamir always is, just the clack of fake blades pushing against another into a deadlock or the grunts of pain whenever one of them strikes the other's stomach is enough to catch the notice of anyone patrolling who has a particularly keen hearing. Which is why Shamir is not really surprised when she hears footsteps pushing up the stairs. 

She is very surprised though when, instead of a nagging Seteth, Cassandra Charon stands at the door with her arms crossed, the long sleeved uniform doing nothing to hide her muscled form, and a pissed expression on her face. 

Shamir's gaze is instinctively drawn to the taser by her belt. She knows from rumors before that only the highest ranking hall monitors are allowed to carry weapons on their person. And Shamir has definitely heard of Thunderstrike Catherine, the girl who's "as much a snitch as she's a total bro" and “will totally beat you up if you call her by her birth name”. Shamir didn’t even balk at the phrasing when she first heard it. After all when you acquire all your information out of baked students hotboxing in the bathroom that's the kind of description you get. 

"Hey! What's going on here?" Catherine barks in question when neither Byleth nor Jeritza stop what they’re doing or at least risk a glance at the intruder. It appears Byleth is too busy sitting on top of his boyfriend/eternal rival’s chest and avoiding getting his hand bit off by a growling Jeritza. 

Shamir sighs and tucks her phone into her backpocket before it can get taken away. Getting up and walking closer is just a matter of not losing anymore height disadvantage. She makes sure her voice is cool and in control when she responds. “Hey. Sorry about them. I can’t explain all the facts to you, but you should just leave them alone. It’s for your own good.” 

Catherine’s face twists even more and she takes a step forward. Shamir’s answer was probably not taken as the sincere advice it was meant as. 

“Was that a threat?” 

Yep, she’s jumping to conclusions. Wonderful. Shamir shakes her head and tries again. 

“No. I’m saying their situation is complicated and you don’t have to get involved. It’s not like they’ll be punished anyway.” Shamir explains the last part with a pointed look. She knows it’s a long shot but maybe Catherine will take the hint and leave. Instead she just steps even closer, her expression still angry but slowly morphing into one of confusion. 

“Huh, they won’t get punished? What do you mean? This whole mess is obviously against the rules.” Catherine points at Jeritza who at some point flipped their position and is now pressing his banged up lightsaber into Byleth’s neck. They’re both sweating with exhaustion and Jeritza’s spiked black leather jacket isn’t doing him any favors under the midday sun. 

Shamir nods. She gets it. Still the ideal never quite matches up with reality so Shamir will have to pop Catherine’s mind bubble.

“You know Rhea?”

“You mean Principal Rhea?” comes the sharp response. It seems completely automatic. Shamir is impressed with the regal woman’s power of brainwashing. 

“Yes, her. Well for some reason she gave Byleth a pass.” 

Catherine’s face is now a perfect picture of befuddlement. It’s enough to make Shamir give a small smile that to most would be called a smirk.

“What do you mean Principal Rhea gave him a pass? A pass for what?” 

Here Shamir’s smile widens, smug. 

“Everything.” 

Behind her she can hear Byleth’s quiet demand for admitted defeat. Something about Jeritza having to learn he couldn’t possibly win against the strength of the Progenitor God. It’s a solemn thing, his voice never pitching into disdain or arrogance even when claiming his divinity. Jeritza whispers something Shamir can’t quite catch and then there’s the sound of kissing. 

Shamir’s fingers itch to fish out her phone and open up her camera app. She can’t see - actually refuses to - the scene playing at her back but Catherine’s gaze is sliding off Shamir’s face and onto the chaos behind her. Her face reddens and she sputters something about getting out her Thunderbrand. 

Yep, Shamir thinks as she watches Catherine’s embarrassed face, she definitely needs to take a picture right now. 

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on twitter @faedinand
> 
> please leave a comment if you liked it!


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